- My mom flies down for the weekend from Sunny Cleveland, Ohio.
- I got to finish building my fixed mtb at ProBikes, when, suddenly, a dozen or so goofballs come in to help Sharma Michael build up his adult-sized big wheels. We drink beer and scavenge up old friction shifters, cranks, pedals, etc. Most are 8-spd, we test ride them, we are excited.
- Most of those same goof-balls relocate a few hours later for a house party at Juts. It's an awesome house party.
- I find myself on the front porch with some guy, and the conversation goes like this
Guy: "Used to be French Broad was the only beer served at LAAFF, but they've since5. Saturday. Recover from Jut's, go for a local 'cross loop. Love it. Take my mom on a field
broadened the selection."
Me: "French Broadened, if you will."
Guy: "No, I mean, you can get other breweries' beers there now."
Me: "Oh." Refill cup. Walk back inside to the white-kid dance party.
trip to visit my friend Meredith at Maple Creek Farm, the southern-most maple syrup
production. We eat quiche and other delicious dishes.
6. I ride Bent Creek with Ryan Fisher, who is the jam, and the source of my using of the
phrase "the jam." Hadn't seen him in almost a year, we catch up, we say goodbye.
7. LAAFF! We race those bigwheels. The kids love it. The adults love it. We talk shit. Ol' pal
A.J. runs over my foot, I'm waiting for my toe-nail to fall off, but it hasn't happened yet.
Otto wins it all. We give our praises to Michael for being a genius. Here's some pictures:
boys' Ape-Indexes. Sean wins by, like, 6 inches.
9. It turns into Monday, I say goodbye to my Mom, 'til next time. Do a low-key ride in Bent
Creek. A few of us gather to eat burritoes. Suddenly, it's back to a normal work-week.
Except that it's not. I found out sometime before Labor Day that I got a job in Bellingham, WA, which I promptly and confidently accepted, before realizing that accepting a job in Bellingham is a little different than accepting a job downtown. Longer commute for one. Anyway, looks like I'm moving...in, uh, two weeks. Paking up, heading out, it'll be good. I will sorely miss Asheville and the reason why Asheville is so amazing (i.e. the people, the bike riding, it being beer city usa #1, and it being generous enough to share that title with another city of somewhat lesser coolness and sunshine...) I've actually made up a little triad of happiness that is a graphical summary of my love for Asheville. It looks like this:
This past weekend, we celebrated Lexy's upgrading to Expert after winning times a million at BMX grandes. Slap him on the back, or on top of his full-face, next time you see him. Then rode Laurel-Pilot-Slate with Beth, and a round-about way up to Farlow, which was awesome...and there was huge group of good people on that ride. Four hours of riding later, we headed over to Beth's for a cook-out, which, again, is reiterating the fact that these people, these mountain, these Kosher hotdogs washed down with PBR are what I love about Asheville.
Shoot! I'm a sap-ass.
Two more weeks of living it up in the best (and oldest!! Booyah!) mountains in the world.